Finished

Tags

poem, poetry, self knowledge, self portrait, self-esteem

How can it be?

My self portrait
  lacks definition,
and is,
dark in some places.
I see my face clearly,
   but there are
    too many
emotions
fighting for
purchase
    there, 
and none
    are permanent.

Maybe the nature of humanity
is incomplete….
    

Pedestrian Hurdles

Tags

hit and run, path, pedestrian, poem, poetry, roadkill, walking

Not so easy,
going for a walk….

Crossing a street,
even if you have the
right of way

You can still become
Road kill
and do not expect
rescue:

They may stop to loot
your goods, or
keep going because
they
did not see you….

On the sidewalk and
street, there is an
Orange and white barricade
blocking your path.

Walk them around….

What A World….

Tags

a poem about pollution, a poem about terrorism, a poem about the vulnerable, bombs, Detroit, infidels, oceans, plastic, poem, poetry, pollution, poverty, seas, terrorism, violence, world

I can see
the cliff’s drop
as our vessels
fight each other.

What’s that you say?

The more things change,
The more they stay the same?

Our street crimes now includes
blasts with nails and junk as shrapnel
all for the infidels you say.

But the bombs kill children
and innocents….

Trash blows through the streets,
Detroit tumble weeds blowing through the air.

Might they fly,
might they fly to the seas?
Cultivating swirling currents of plastics and
chemicals for all fish to eat?
Like fibre, maybe it’s necessary for our diets….

What’s that you say, that our civilizations are at pinnacles
Of great heights.

But we can’t feed the vulnerable,
They get no respect and they                       too die in the streets.
Maybe the blood and bodies
can flow to the seas too….

I stopped shooting to talk
peace and logic.
You start to listen, then you are killed too,
Because no one wants leave the
Status Qua.

There is a chance,
but only on this side of cliffs.

Visitors, Out For Lunch

Tags

alien invasion poetry, apocalyptic poetry, consume, earth, monster, poem, poetry

Entry was
  searing hot and
an
atmosphere thick
with life.

A perfect place for
a
snack.

Landed in the
  mountains and consumed
It, leaving more of us,
a silky soot of nothing.

We consumed the weak and
slow of foot first,
that sweat organic taste mixed
  with polyester,
adding to chemical
soup.

We love the cities,
eating by city blocks

Oceans are black
and all are consumed.